


Growing up

by Magdelope



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magdelope/pseuds/Magdelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 16 year old Shepard doesn't want to be shipped off to earth but rather stay in space with her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing up

“No! No, no, no! NO!” A 16 year old Shepard fought her instincts to storm out of her mom’s cabin. She knew that her mom’s crew was on the other side and she had been taught from an early age that there was never a good enough reason to behave badly onboard.   
“Jane,” Hannah Shepard said patiently, “yes. This is going to happen. You don’t have a choice.”  
“But you do!” Shepard cried out, “you do! Unless you send me away I don’t have to go!”   
“Jane,” Hannah tried again, but her patience was running out, “if it was up to me, you could stay here. You know I have loved every minute of you being here…”  
“No you don’t!” Shepard interrupted her, “if you did you wouldn’t be sending me away again! Why can’t I stay with dad then? Like I did before?”  
“Honey,” her mom continued, “you’re not a child anymore. It’s not as easy to justify shipping you between me and your father as it was when you were a child. You are a young adult soon. We can’t have an adult civilian on either ship and…”  
“So I’ll enlist!!” Shepard yelled, “I DON’T WANT TO GO!”  
“Stop yelling,” Hannah said in a stern voice, “and you are too young to enlist. You will go and live with Aunt Phillipa, it will be good for you. You will get to go to a normal school and be normal for once. I told your dad over and over that I did not want to raise a child in space, I don’t know how it happened.”  
“I don’t think you wanted to raise a child at all,” Shepard said, a fat tear rolling down her cheek. Hannah had no answer to that. She hadn’t wanted a child, that didn’t mean that her daughter had been any less wanted when she was finally born. Both Hannah and Shepard’s dad, David Meer, had loved her and raised her even if they had never been in a proper relationship with each other. But the daughter in question was now getting too old.  
“You know that I love you, Jane,” Hannah said sadly, “and you know that your father loves you too. You are our only daughter. We want to give you a chance to experience earth life before you decide to throw it away. You have never known anything except space and the Alliance.”  
“I never wanted anything else,” Shepard muttered and pulled at her long red hair in desperation. She needed to get out. To move. She glanced at the door. She had never before ran out on her mother during their ever more and more frequent fights. But this time it was different. She had to get out.  
“I need to get out of here,” the girl said, in an instance she was by the door, and before her mum had reacted she was out.   
…

Shepard had been on the Citadel a couple of times before, but never on her own. In fact, she hadn’t had much freedom ever. She didn’t know if it was because her parents were in the service and heard about a lot of accidents and kidnappings of human children, but she had always been very sheltered. And she was sick of it.   
She felt strong and free as she walked down the markets on her own. She felt tall and adult. People moved to the side when she walked by. Shepard lifted her head high. She was someone. For once she wasn’t just “Hannah Shepard’s daughter” but a person. Her own person. The feeling was dizzying. And there was no way her mother was going to take it away from her. No matter what reasons she thought she had.   
She passed by a big sign saying that the Alliance was recruiting nearby. Shepard looked at the sign. She had been joking when telling her mom she might enlist rather than go and live with her aunt on earth, but now she started questioning if that was really such a bad idea. Shepard had known nothing but space and soldiers. That was true. But that didn’t mean that Shepard needed to know anything else to know that this was what she wanted. She was meant to be a soldier.  
She passed the reflective windows and dropped to a halt, staring at herself. She needed to be eighteen to enlist. She wasn’t yet, only sixteen. But she was tall and clearly strong. She lifted her chin a bit. Surely she could pass for eighteen? She made a grimace at her reflection. The only problem was the waist long hair that her mom refused to let her cut. It had to go. Suddenly Shepard knew what she had to do. Hairdressers weren’t that big on the Citadel yet but she knew that there was at least one.   
When she arrived at Don’t cut a krogan, the sign showing a krogan being chased by a pair of scissors, it was sadly closed. Shepard put her face against the glass door and knocked.  
“Anybody in there?” She knew that it was desperate but she needed this done today. To her relief a young human woman, carrying a broom came to the door and opened.  
“Yes,” she said, looking at Shepard with curiosity, “what do you want?”  
“I want you to cut my hair.”  
The woman giggled softly.  
“Soldier, I take it?” She said and lifted one eyebrow, “take that attitude elsewhere, officer, I don’t take orders.”  
Shepard had enough sense to look slightly ashamed for a moment. The woman, despite being much shorter, looked at Shepard with authority. There was also amusement in her eyes.  
“I’m sorry,” Shepard said after a little while, “do you think it’s possible that you could cut my hair? Please?”  
The woman laughed.  
“You’re lucky Rosalinda isn’t here,” she said, “my boss would have had you out of here so fast…” The woman moved to the side and let Shepard enter.  
“We get a lot of soldiers,” she continued, never ceasing to talk as she turned on the light, prepared a chair and brought a box full of scissors and combs, “so we can’t allow a bad attitude. A bad attitude is the worst. So unattractive. We only fix hair here. Not ugly insides. I’m Fiona by the way.”   
She took a hold of Shepard’s shoulders and pushed her down on the chair.  
“So, what do you want me to do?” She asked, “to be honest we rarely get soldiers with such long, lovely hair as yours. Is that even allowed? I would have thought that it was against regulation or something like that. Is it strict? I mean, of course it’s strict. I mean, I believe you serve a purpose and I’m proud to be human and all that but I really couldn’t live with a buzzcut and no nail polish. Oh and pretty underwear! No. It might be fine for other people but for me, I think I just rather stay here. And hello, this is the Citadel. We get plenty of excitement. I don’t need to go into space everyday for that.”  
Shepard started laughing. The woman just never shut up. But it was strangely endearing, Shepard enjoyed it.   
“It’s pretty strict,” she said and smirked, “but it all has a purpose. Hair can get caught or…”  
“Aha, aha,” Fiona interrupted, “so… lenght?”   
“Umm… just above the shoulder will be fine.”  
The woman started cutting with confidence, talking as she went along. It was about her boss, Rosalinda, about soldiers, and hair, about the horrible outfits she had seen salarians wear, about the one time a krogan had come and asked them to cut his hair and they hadn’t know what to do.  
Shepard felt more comfortable than she had in a long time, she just closed her eyes and listened to Fiona’s constant rambling. There was something very comforting in listening to her mindless chatter while feeling her head get lighter and lighter. A weight had been lifted from, not her shoulders, but her head.   
“There,” Fiona said, “it’s done. Ta-da! You like?”  
Shepard looked into the mirror. She did like it. A lot. She reached up and pulled her fingers through the now quite short hair. She looked older now. And definitely fit for being a soldier. She couldn’t stop the giant smile that reached her face.  
“I love it,” she said, “it’s perfect. Thank you.”  
“I’m glad you like it,” Fiona said and looked relieved, “I was worried.”  
“There is no reason to be worried,” Shepard said, “how much?”  
Fiona went from relieved to looking rather embarrassed.   
“What is it?” Shepard asked, “is it my hair? Did you…?”  
“No!” Fiona exclaimed, “the hair is fine, it’s just… I’m sorry. I’m not a hair-dresser. I do work here, but all mum allows me to do is sweep the floor and clean the scissors.” Fiona turned quiet, sinking down on a nearby chair, looking sad.  
“It’s fine,” Shepard said, “really it is. My hair is great and… I’m not really a soldier either.”  
Fiona started chuckling at that.  
“Ha!,” she said, “I knew that. That’s why I dared to mess with you. So, what are you? Kid of an officer?”  
“Something like that,” Shepard agreed.  
“We’re equally pathetic aren’t we?” Fiona said with a sad chuckle.   
“Not pathetic,” Shepard said, “just… smothered by mothers. Rosalinda is your mum?”  
“Aunt,” Fiona said.   
“I’ll come back when my hair needs cutting again,” Shepard said, “I’ll ask specifically for you.”   
“I’d like that,” Fiona said.  
…

Shepard did return to Don’t cut a krogan approximately four months later and asked for Fiona, only to find out that the girl had left the place and moved back to earth. It made Shepard sad in a way she couldn’t explain. She had looked forward to seeing the girl again and telling her that that very day, Shepard was being shipped out for basic training.


End file.
